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All posts for the month January, 2012

I’m continuing, now and then, to read Saadat Hasan Manto’s book, Stars from Another Sky: The Bombay Film World of the 1940s. (Actually, I am not reading it in order but, rather, according to whim or my interest in the subject. But I don’t think there is any reason to read this collection of articles in order, or to read it without interruption.) Now, at this point, I have probably read about half the book, and while I can see why he is considered a fine writer, I have to admit that I have mixed feelings about this long gossip sheet, especially his descriptions of the famous actresses. Manto seems to have been a bit too eager to go on about these famous women’s sexual exploits, the way they kept having affairs, the specifics in the affairs they had, etc. He did this in the chapter on Noor Jehan and even more enthusiastically in the chapter on Sitara Devi. Right now, I’ve started the chapter on Kuldip Kaur, and he’s doing this to her, too, at least to some extent, beginning with a description of Pran as her “male mistress.” (I will grant that some of this is rather funny… Maybe she gave Pran a few lessons on how to be a dacoit.) But strangely, out of all the women I’ve read about in this book so far, the one who seems to be the most faithful and pure (at least in the way that Manto describes her) is the one who’d been brought up to be a courtesan; that is, Jaddan Bai. (By the way, the chapter in general – which is mainly about Nargis – might be my favorite. It has very interesting descriptions of Nargis’ personality, and the writing in this chapter appeals to me most – but I’ll get back to that another time.) Anyway, to show what I mean, here is a nice passage:

In Jaddan Bai’s family, there was Mohan Babu, Baby Nargis and her two brothers. All of them were the responsibility of Jaddan Bai. Mohan Babu came from a rich family and had been so fascinated with the musical web Jaddan Bai’s mellifluous voice had woven around him that he had allowed her to become his entire life. He was handsome and he had money. He was also an educated man and enjoyed good health. All these assets he had laid at her feet like offerings in a temple. Jaddan Bai enjoyed great fame at the time. Rajas and nawabs would shower her with gold and silver when she sang. However, after this rain of gold and silver was over, she would put her arms around Mohan because he was all she really cared about. He stayed by her side until the end and she loved him deeply. He was also the father of her children. She had no illusions about rajas and nawabs; she knew that their money smelt of the blood of the poor. She also knew that when it came to women, they were capricious.

Of course, after reading such a passage about Jaddan Bai, I had to look for examples of her singing – and I was very pleased to find some selections on YouTube…

And there is a really nice post about her, with a filmography and MP3s, at Indian Raga.

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P.S. Memsaab wrote an interesting write up of this film. Unfortunately, it had slipped from my memory before I wrote this post, so I was surprised to see, upon (re)visiting it, that she had used many of the same screen caps. (She had used a lot more screen caps, but of course she had to include some from this very memorable part near the beginning.)

There are so many men who are in love with Nur Jehan. I know cooks who prepare food for their sahibs and memsahibs while looking lovingly at her picture, which they have stuck on the kitchen wall. I also know domestic servants who do not care for Nargis, Nimmi or Kamini Kaushal but who are mad about Nur Jehan. Whenever they see a picture of hers, they clip it and put it in their collection, which they hoard in a broken tin trunk so that they can soothe their eyes by looking at it in their spare hours. Were someone to say something disparaging about Nur Jehan, such men would be prepared to fight. In our own home, we have a lover of Nur Jehan who calls every young girl, every bride and every woman wearing red, “Nur Jehan.” He knows practically all her songs. He himself is good-looking, so I am at a loss to understand what it is about Nur Jehan that he likes so much that he keeps talking about her from morning to evening.

He is closely related to me, being the son of my nephew Hamid Jalal and my sister-in-law Zakia. His name is Shahid Jalal but we all call him “Taku.” We have tried to tell him many times that he should seriously think of falling out of love with Nur Jehan whom he cannot marry, as she is already married and has her own children, but it has no effect on him. He loves movies and if these movies do not star Nur Jehan he is very upset. He comes home and begins to sing her songs. He has told his parents that all he wants in the world is Nur Jehan. Some time ago, his grandfather Mian Jalaluddin went to the street to meet Shaukat Hussain Rizvi and said to him, “Look, you have a rival who is madly in love with your wife and one of these days he is going to run away with her and you will be left watching.” Shakat asked awkwardly, “Who is he?” Maian Jaluluddin smiled. “My grandson.” “Your grandson! How old is he?” “About four.” When Nur Jehan heard the story, she declared that she would go and meet her lover and marry him. Shahid Jalal has been in seventh heaven since being given the news and is watching impatiently for the day when Nur Jehan will come to see him and become his bride.

Recently, someone told me a story about another of Nur Jehan’s lovers, who was not four, but a grown-up man, a barber by profession. He would sing her songs all day long and never tire of talking about her. Someone said to him one day, “Do you really love Nur Jehan?” “Without a doubt, “ the barber replied sincerely. “If you really love her, can you do what the legendary Punjabi lover Mahiwal did for his beloved Sohni? He cut a piece of his flesh from his thigh to prove his love,” the man said. The barber gave him his sharp cut-throat razor and said, “You can take a piece of flesh from any part of my body.” His friend was a strange character because he slashed away a large chunk of flesh from his arm and ran away while the barber fainted after providing this proof of love. When this great lover regained consciousness in May Hospital, Laore, the first words that came to his lips were, “Nur Jehan.”

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